


Friendship, Level 1

by organizedrebel



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 2 AM fire alarm AU, D&D references, F/M, I just can't help myself, I legitimately can't tell, You are both NERDS, and i was SO UPSET because it's COLD, and i wrote the damn thing, anyway the teen rating is because of swearing, because this happened in my building this week, bucky is a goober, is this flirting?, that's literally it - Freeform, thinly veiled flirting?, you're a goober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organizedrebel/pseuds/organizedrebel
Summary: It's 2 AM, and the fire alarm has gone off in your apartment building. Your new neighbor forgot a coat. Or just doesn't have one. Whatever the case, you happen to have an extra-large comforter on your person, and you're the sharing type.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117





	Friendship, Level 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, trying out a new medication and when it wears off I get an extra burst of energy. So technically this entire fic was a total accident. But the good news about this accident is that you guys get something extra to read! Enjoy!

You happen to know for a  _ fact _ that it’s illegal to tamper with fire alarms or smoke detectors where you live. That doesn’t help the fact that you’re trudging out of your apartment building with the comforter from your bed wrapped around you at two in the morning, hissing as the frigid air of the outdoors swirls around your legs. 

You aren’t the only one who’s brought a blanket or a coat, although you do spot several people without either. Of those, there is exactly one who has neither blanket nor coat, isn’t wearing a shirt, and has his arms crossed. He doesn’t seem properly  _ angry _ (although you’d be willing to bet he’s upset), but the crossed arms seem to indicate discomfort rather than being pissed. So basically, there’s no way he  _ isn’t _ cold during the middle of winter when it’s almost too cold to snow, wearing slippers, his boxers, and a grumpy scowl.

While the nearby fire department’s truck pulls up, as they’re required to respond to everything even if it’s not a fire (there’s no way it is, your upstairs neighbors just really, REALLY suck at cooking and probably wanted popcorn at 2 am), you sidle up to him and bump his arm with your shoulder. The intensity in the gaze he turns to you almost makes you rethink your decision. 

“Uh… you know, I had some funny comment ready to try and cheer you up and now I’m  _ really _ thinking better of it,” you admit, shuffling back a step or three. 

He snorts, it  _ might _ be in amusement, and you absently note that the white cloud he exhales makes him look a bit like a blue-eyed dragon. Just the mental image threatens to pull at the corners of your lips, but in this situation you feel like that would be a bad idea. Oh well, you can sketch it later or something. 

“No, please share with the class. This night really can’t get much worse, I could use a pick-me-up.” His voice is nice. It’s deep in the way your voice is when you’re humming, but not quite as deep as the sounds you’ve heard from a bass guitar. 

To be fair, that’s still a very broad range. 

You eye him warily for a moment, then relent and say, “The least they could do is like. Keep a stack of blankets behind the front desk for people who didn’t bring their own during these god-forsaken fire drills.” 

His eyebrows pulled together. “This is a drill?” 

“Oh hell no. If they decided drills needed to happen after nine pm, somebody would die.” 

He huffed again, but this time you were sure you heard amusement in that sound. “They have that much sense, at least.” 

“I pay them to live here, I would  _ hope _ they have that much sense,” you groused, bouncing on your toes. Even in your slippers, your feet were cold. Which really brought you back around to the idea you had when you first approached this guy, and you sized him up momentarily. “... You’ve  _ gotta _ be cold.” 

“Nah, I sunbathe in this weather,” he responded immediately, and you chuckled at his deadpan joke. He now had your respect for being able to shoot back immediately with sarcasm, not that you’d be  _ telling _ him that. 

You pointedly looked up at the almost-black night sky, tinted with light from where the city  _ really _ started two streets over, and back to him. “Well,” you started slowly, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe the sun is out at two in the morning here.” 

“I’m just that good at getting a tan. Can get one even without the sun being up.” 

Snorting, you retorted, “That  _ is _ impressive, tanning without the sun must save you from potential skin cancer down the road.” 

“It absolutely does, you should give it a shot.”

“Well hold on. Are we talking polar tanning, or can I keep my bikini on?” 

“Go big or go home. Polar all the way.” 

“God, you’re fuckin’ funny,” you giggled, giving him a look with a tilted head before holding out your hand. “I’m ____. Nice to meet you, unfortunate about the circumstances.” 

Your (probably?) neighbor let out a short bark of laughter and shook your hand. “I’m James. You’ll need to get to Level 2 Friendship to unlock my nickname.” 

“That’s fair; you’ll get to unlock my Tragic Backstory by Level 5. And then access to earth magic at Level 12.” 

“Sounds like good perks to me,” he said with a grin. You were glad that you’d finally prompted a good, proper smile out of him-- it was difficult to smile at 2 AM, fuck only knew you probably wouldn’t in his position. 

“Well, now that we’re friends, can I interest you in sharing this comforter until they let us inside?” you piped up, holding out an arm (and a section of the comforter) in invitation. “Because honestly you look halfway to Jack Nicholson in  _ the Shining _ and this might postpone the axe scene.” 

You were rewarded with another chuckle, and James carefully sidestepped over to take you up on your offer, taking the corner of the comforter so you both were pretty bundled up on the sidewalk. “Thank you,” he said genuinely, and when you looked up this time the intensity in his eyes was still about the same. Just… much friendlier this time. “I would say this bumps you up to Level 2 Friendship, so…” In much the same way as you had a minute before, he offered his hand to you (inside the comforter it was slightly cramped for a handshake but it was the thought that counted). 

With a gleeful smile, you shook his hand again. “I’m ____, that much hasn’t changed!” 

“I’m Bucky, pleasure to meet you.”

“Bucky?” you repeated, your grin receding to a confused smile. 

“Yup. My middle name’s Buchanan. I think it might’ve belonged to someone back in my ancestry, not sure,” he remarked, looking up at the apartment building you both lived in. “But yeah. Nickname. You can take your pick.” 

“I like Bucky better than James,” you confided with a soft laugh. “Sounds friendlier. I thought you were ready to rip my head off for trying to talk to you a bit ago.” 

“Ah, no, you wouldn’t have been at risk, just whoever set the alarms off.” 

Leaning in a little, you surreptitiously gestured to a couple of people standing a bit down from where you were on the sidewalk. “Those guys live on the top floor. They’re nice people, fairly quiet, but they  _ cannot cook. _ They also have a penchant for microwave popcorn at 2 AM.” 

Bucky’s look was fairly skeptical. “This has happened before??” 

“You must be new here.” 

“I moved in two weeks ago, so yeah.” 

“This is… I don’t wanna say a regular occurrence, but it’s happened a few times before.” 

He closed his eyes briefly and you saw a few expressions flash across his face-- on anyone else, you’d call them all the stages of grief in a matter of seconds. “Duly noted.” A moment later, he turned a teasing look down at you and added, “Is the comforter sharing a one-time event, or is it a repeatable cutscene?” 

“Hmmm.” You eyed him in speculation, seemingly debating. Of course you had an answer ready, but giving it right away just wasn’t that fun. In the end, you nodded. “I suppose so. Though a larger comforter wouldn’t go amiss. Maybe I should look into that,” you hummed. 

Both of your heads perked up when the firemen walked out of the building with the policemen who had shown up, and they talked briefly with the building manager before waving everybody back in. Everyone left outside (it couldn’t have been much more than a dozen people, but it was enough) started to stream in through the doors again. You and Bucky were two of the last ones through the doors, which was made a bit of an adventure due to the fact that neither of you wanted to drop the comforter, and treated it as more of a puzzle than it really needed to be. The elevator turned into a similar obstacle, as more people wanted to take the elevator than the stairs. 

Upon learning that you lived on the same floor as your new friend, you proposed the stairs (the path to the third floor didn’t have  _ that _ many stairs) and Bucky agreed. Since you two were almost the only people  _ on _ the stairs, it allowed you to walk side by side, still wrapped in the comforter and chatting the entire way. 

Turned out that Bucky had been in the army before moving here, and he currently worked at a place just outside of the city that repaired more than just civilian vehicles. He’d been living with his friend until a couple of weeks ago, when the apartment next to yours had gone up for rent (you wouldn’t miss the previous occupant, who’d held parties frequently and long into the night-- or morning), and you’d been out of town the day he moved in. You told Bucky in no uncertain terms that  _ had _ you been home when he moved in, you would have either offered to help or offered to provide pizza and beer. Bucky told  _ you _ in no uncertain terms that you would have been welcome, and it was just too darn bad for both of you because now you knew him and could schedule such an afternoon or evening. And if you took your time on a few of the last steps, who would have known?

The two of you reached Bucky’s door before yours, and with an exaggerated sigh he dropped his side of the comforter and handed it back to you. You bundled back up, both delighted to have your comforter back and disappointed at the loss of extra heat. 

“Despite the circumstances, it was great to meet you, ____,” Bucky said fondly, unlocking his door and nudging it open. You supposed it would have been  _ too _ poetic if he’d left his keys in there when he exited the building with the rest of the occupants. “So, dinner? Pizza and beer maybe?” 

“Sometime this week,” you confirmed with a grin and a little wave over the top edge of your comforter. “I’ll leave a note on your door or something.” 

“What, no phone number?” 

“You’re gonna have to work for that, that’s Level 3 territory,” you teased, stepping down the hall in the direction of your door. 

He snapped his fingers in fake disappointment. “Damn, there go my nefarious plans.” 

“If those were your plans you’re a pretty garbage villain,” you taunted, giggling at his dismissive wave. 

“I’ll improve, just wait. Good night, ____!” 

“G’night, Bucky!” you called as you unlocked your own door (you’d been in this situation too many times to forget your keys on your way out at an ungodly hour) and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind you. You couldn’t really stop the grin on your face. New friend lived next door, and you didn’t  _ have _ that many friends in the city because you didn’t really care to go out much. Looked like that might change in the near future. 

And god help you, you were actually looking  _ forward _ to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Since I blasted through most of this late at night, it's not proofread and there might be errors or typos. PLEASE don't be afraid to point those out so I can fix them! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
